


laced with carbon (burnt to hell and back)

by crushed_cheonsa



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Baking, Comedy of Errors, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushed_cheonsa/pseuds/crushed_cheonsa
Summary: "Baking is easier than cooking.""Tell that to your burnt apple pie, Clay."Dream and George chef/baker au, Dream comes to George's house to show him that baking isn't as complicated as most people think. George thinks the opposite. Things happen.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	laced with carbon (burnt to hell and back)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoraDong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraDong/gifts).



The sharp ringing of the doorbell jolted George to his senses. 

The ear-piercing noise continued even after a few seconds more than convention, and the urge to get up and answer whoever was at the door overpowered the baker's desire to pass out from exhaustion. 

After taking a moment to stretch and check the time on his phone, he opened his door to his rival. 

"Dude. I said I'd be here at 3, and you didn't prepare? You look absolutely trashed. Did you even sleep?"

"Barely, Dream. Also, isn't it weird for a chef to have an alias? You don't see Gordon Ramsay asking others to call him xXDragonKillerXx."

"Shut it."

George motioned for the other to come in, and led him to the kitchen. He waited patiently for Dream to toss his bag onto his sofa, apathetic about it bouncing sadly to the floor. 

"Done? I only have so much time to help you make pies before I have to man the shop." 

Dream rolled his eyes, but remained silent instead of replying to George's quip. Running his hands impatiently over the marble surface of George's island countertop, the coolness was a pleasant contrast to the suffocating heat of the afternoon. 

"Okay, apple time. Chop these up, I'll prepare the lemon juice." George's voice had changed, as if he held more confidence, now that he was in his element. He set a mix of chartreuse and saffron-coloured apples onto the counter, and handed Dream a tiny knife.

It looked blunt, blunt enough to test by running a fingertip across the edge lightly. It didn't leave a noticeable nick, which Dream scoffed at. 

"Dream! Oh my god. Okay. What, you want a sharper knife?" George had been stunned by Dream's apparent show of recklessness, and felt his heart leap into his throat by instinct. 

However, it seemed that the chef didn't think anything of George's excessive reaction, and just shook his head silently in response to the other's question. 

"It'll be fine, it's just apples." 

"Yes, chef." 

The repetitive rapping of the knife against a mahogany chopping board punctuated the silence that the pair had allowed, their work occupying both enough that they felt conversation was unnecessary. 

After tossing the inch-wide apple chunks in lemon juice and brown sugar, Dream's gaze flitted over to George. His movements were sluggish, as if he was falling asleep in between motions. Surely he wasn't nodding off. 

He washed his hands clean of any traces of melting sugar, letting the chilled water pool in his palms for a second before tapping George on the shoulder. 

"Yo. You good? Passing out in a kitchen is pretty dangerous, I'd say." He tried to hide the concern in his voice by adding a sarcastic comment. "Knives, hot dishes and all that." 

George jerked awake, and snapped his neck towards the hand lingering on his shoulder. "Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm still a little sleepy from my nap earlier, 's all." He returned to his task of kneading dough with renewed energy, the adrenaline of being jolted from sleep fueling him. 

"If you say so. Fall asleep one more time, you'll be woken up with a blade to your neck instead." It was a joke, but despite their status as rivals, Dream did not want the other getting hurt. How idiotic of him. It was as if he cared about George. 

_Yeah, right. ___

__Stooping over to preheat the oven, he couldn't stop thinking, _"What's it like to hold his hand?", and "I wonder how he looks when he's going to-" _____

____"Dream? Taking mighty long to preheat the oven, don't you think?" George's remark shook the chef out of his contemplative train of thought. He stood up stiffly, and took in a shaky breath._ _ _ _

____"Y-yeah."_ _ _ _

____Dream worried his lip with his teeth as he assembled the components of his pie, still ruminating. George was too busy trying not to look too vacant in his endeavour to stay awake, so Dream's nervous habit stayed unnoticed._ _ _ _

____George placed his pie on the bottom rack of the now just-over-pleasantly-warm oven, while Dream insisted on setting his onto the upper rack with an argument of _"It'll be crispy and nicely-charred" _backing him up.___ _ _ _

______After thirty seconds of unfruitful convincing that it would burn, George gave up, resolving on watching Dream's reaction once his beloved pie came out of the oven in an hour._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dusting their hands off of flour, the pair decided on attempting to get to know each other more while waiting for their pies to bake. Beckoning for Dream to join him in the living room, George took note of the cooling temperatures._ _ _ _ _ _

______Compared to the scorching heat and humidity of the afternoon, even the stifling air after an hour and a half's hard work was preferable._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You know, I thought you were some boring dude until now. I can't imagine just baking every day for years." Dream was the first to initiate conversation, starting it off with a insulting crack at George's profession._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Well, vice versa, Dream. You're actually pretty cool. Except for your insufferable attitude. I'm older than you, treat me with some respect, okay?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"'Kay, grandpa."_ _ _ _ _ _

______They continued their exchange amicably, until the caramel scent of baked apples and sugar wafted over to them._ _ _ _ _ _

______As the oven door was hastily yanked open, Dream realised he had forgotten to wear mittens in his excitement, and the searing pain of getting burned ripped a gasp from his throat._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ah! What the hell! Bitch-ass oven!" He sprinted to the sink, and let water cascade over his palm. This reminded him awfully of earlier when he had enjoyed the tap water's icy sensation._ _ _ _ _ _

______To add insult to injury, when he looked over to see how his pie was, it was burnt to hell and back._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ugh, nothing's going well today... George! This is so annoying." Dream's voice was wavering, and he blinked rapidly._ _ _ _ _ _

______This was meant to be a way to prove to himself that baking was way easier than cooking, but he messed it up again, as usual. George turned off the oven's switch, and pulled Dream to the couch._ _ _ _ _ _

______He had been silent since their chat before the pies were done, and he stared unblinklingly at Dream's now-reddened palm. There was an ice pack now resting on the injury, but it did little to help the pain._ _ _ _ _ _

______George furrowed his eyebrows, and Dream could almost see the gears in his mind turning. _Say something. _Dream was strangely occupied with George's behaviour, instead of the pies or his burn.___ _ _ _ _ _

________"Do you want a slice of my pie? It's not burnt."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dream nodded, sullen. Half a minute later, a wedge of perfectly-made apple pie was set in front of him, wisps of transculent steam emanating from it. It gave some comfort and distracted him from his hand as he waited for it to be cool enough to eat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Sorry, I don't really know how to comfort people. You were going to cry just now, and I panicked. Usually, when I give people what I bake, they feel better, so I hope it works for you." George sat cross-legged on the floor opposite him, holding a plate of his own. "I'm sorry you got hurt as well, Dream. How ironic, since you were worrying about me earlier." He sighed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm sorry as well, George, and you can call me Clay. I ruined what would have been a wonderful day with my mistakes." The silence was deafening, parallel but opposite to the comfortable calm two hours ago. "I'm willing to forgive you for being a sucky consoler, though."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"How?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Say 'baking is easier than cooking'."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Tell that to your burnt apple pie, Clay."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this was a prompt by a friend so i didn't really know what i was doing (as always) but it's good to try new things
> 
> also this is rated mature because i didnt know whether that one sentence about intrusive thoughts was too weird for teens
> 
> kudos, bookmarks, comments and shares are always appreciated!


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